


a new hope

by dailandin



Series: the prince and the smuggler [1]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, No Jedi, Prince Percival, Smuggler Credence, Star Wars!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-28 02:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10821603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailandin/pseuds/dailandin
Summary: When an apparently simple job (taking two young couples to Alderaan for a family visit), goes very wrong, very fast, Credence finds himself smack dab in the middle of a Galactic Civil War.(A Star Wars themed Gradence fic, to celebrate May the Fourth)





	a new hope

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Star Wars day, everyone!
> 
> I wanted to do something for May the 4th, but didn't feel like writing a proper Star Wars fic, so I just decided to do a Gradence version. As a warning, I played fast and loose with Star Wars canon, and while some characters/scenes will be pretty close to the movie version, others will either be removed, added or modified. All changes are done on purpose, and each has a reason behind, such as: "fits better the fbawtft character", "too lazy to write a scene", or "just did it for the lulz". I was basically _raised_ on Star Wars, so I know and love the source material, I just decided to have a little play with :)
> 
> This fic is unbeta'd.

The Goldstein sisters are nothing but trouble. 

Credence knows it with absolute certainty, same way he knows the twin suns will rise on the horizon every morning. He can feel it in his bones. Despite their humble, completely unremarkable clothes, and the pleasant, unthreatening smiles on their faces, they have the word ‘Trouble’ written across their foreheads, plain to see for anyone who knows how to look.

And Credence knows how to look. He would not be alive, otherwise. People do not survive in his line of business without having a good eye for spotting trouble a mile away.

“I-I can’t take you” he tells them, trying to sound as authoritative as he possibly can, and doing his best to harden his heart against the twin pleading looks they are throwing his way “Sorry” he adds, ducking his head and fiddling with his glass. He has never been very good at resisting pleading looks and begging faces, one of the reasons he is currently in trouble with Mary Lou.

“We will double the price” says one of their two companions, a shifty looking guy who looks, if possible, even more suspicious than the sisters in the dingy canteen of Moss Eisley. Although his clothes are just as plain and unremarkable as those of his companions, his accent is most definitely not from Tatooine, the soft, round vowels and lilting tone of his words betraying his Core World origins. The way he keeps avoiding looking Credence in the eyes, and glancing nervously across the room only further his apparent lack of belonging.

“It’s not about money” replies Credence, refusing to be tempted by the easy promise of cash. He is already treading on thin ice with Mary Lou, he cannot afford any more trouble with the Empire, or anyone else, really. And the Goldsteins and their friends are a magnet for trouble if Credence ever saw one.

The shifty guy slumps down at Credence refusal, shyly looking sideways at Goldstein The Older. She glances back at him, before looking worriedly at the last member of their group, a plump, friendly looking man who would utterly inconspicuous if not for a certain stiffness to his bearing that points towards a military background of some kind. The man nods at Goldstein, and she snaps her gaze back to Credence. She looks worryingly determined. Brows on an almost straight line over her eyes, jaw locked and stubbornly pushed forward.

“We will  _ triple _ the price” She says, in a calm, even tone, only betrayed by the white knuckled grip she has on the table. Beside her, her sister cannot hide a gasp of surprise, hands quickly going over her mouth to cover it. Their shifty companion does a better job of hiding his reaction, but his shoulders still hunch up in an aborted motion, as if startled. 

_ It’s not about the money _ Credence wants to say. It is on the tip of his tongue, but he cannot manage to get the words out. Because while his reasons to refuse them have, really, nothing to do with the price they are offering, it is an staggering amount of money. More than enough for him to pay Mary Lou back for the lost cargo and have some to spare.

Maybe even enough to leave.

He sighs. “Fine” That amount of money may just be worth the potential trouble.

The Goldsteins and their companions beam back at him in delight, clearly surprised at having managed to secure themselves a transport. Credence hunches his shoulders and does his best to push down the worries nagging at the back of his head.

 

***

 

Trouble finds them before they even leave Moss Eisley.

As much as Credence had been aware his passengers were clearly not who they said they were (Just two farmers and their wives on a family visit to Alderaan, really), he had not expected them to be fugitives from the Empire. He mentally curses them, and his foolish greed, as he runs up the boarding ramp into the Falcon, Stormtrooper laser blasts flying over his head.

His heart beats wildly in his chest as he takes his seat in the pilot cabin. His hands are clammy, and his back is drenched in sweat. He punches the launch codes almost on autopilot, barely able to hear anything over the frantic roaring in his ears.  _ Kriffing Stormtroopers.  _ He really, really cannot afford to mess with the Empire. Not with Mary Lou still pissed at him for losing that cargo over in Corellia. 

The Falcon flies off Moss Eisley, immune to the laser blasts of the Stormtroopers, and Credence breathes a sigh of relief when the sky before them darkens as they break through the atmosphere and into outer space.

His relief, however, is short lived. A Super Destroyer looms before them, a large swarm of TIE fighters already bursting out from within it, blasters firing.

Credence maneuvers the Falcon out of the fire as best as he can, while he panickedly punches in the codes on the Hyperdrive computer. Mary Lou is going to murder him. She will throw him to the Rancor for daring to get involved in Imperial business

When the Hyperdrive kicks in, and the stars flash into lines around them, Credence slumps into his seat. His heart thumps, almost painfully, against his ribcage, and he draws in ragged breaths that burn through the back of his throat. That was close. Way too close. He had almost been able to see the Rancor’s teeth, snapping above him.

He turns his seat to look at his troublesome passengers. The two Goldstein sisters are sitting together, still clutching each other, faces white with fear. The plump man is sitting next to them, back ramrod straight and staring right ahead with grim determination, while his companion lounges, apparently unpreoccupied, on his seat.

“Well?” Credence prompts them, emboldened by the rush of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins after their escape “Anyone going to explain what that was?”

“We are not farmers” declares the shifty man, eyes flitting nervously around the cabin, and hands clamped between his knees.

Credence scowls at him. The man awkwardly clears his throat. 

“I’m working with the Rebellion” announces the other man, standing up and offering a hand to Credence “Captain Jacob Kowalski, of the Tantive IV”

Credence stares at the hand offered to him in disbelief. He can feel a headache building up. Why Rebels? Why could he have not picked up some good, old, common criminals? This is bad. This is very, very bad. Nevermind surviving this job and evading the Empire. Mary Lou is going to have his head, credits or not, if she finds out he has been collaborating with the Rebellion.

“Right” says Captain Kowalski, withdrawing his hand and nervously wiping it down on his tight “Bit of a shock, I understand. Let me explain”

Credence nods, still panicking internally.

“I work for Prince Percival” the Captain declares, looking at Credence expectantly, as if expecting some sort of recognition. Credence stares at him blankly. The name does not tell him anything. The Captain clears his throat awkwardly “He is a member of the Senate, from Alderaan” A Senator from a Core World. There could not possibly be anyone whose existence was further removed from Credence’s in the whole Galaxy. The Senate has little to no power in the Outer Rims, it certainly cannot compare to the Hutts.

“Prince Percival” The Captain continues, when Credence does not show any signs of recognition “was captured by the Empire while carrying information of vital importance to the survival of the Rebellion” he explains, with a grimace of pain “When our ship was boarded Prince Percival handed me a data disk with the information and helped me escape in a rescue pod, so that I may carry the message for him to the Rebel Alliance. I managed to land the pod on Tatooine, where the Prince had told me I could make contact with Theseus Scamander, an old friend of his”

“Theseus Scamander?” Credence asks, looking at the shifty man. He distantly remembers him introducing himself with a similar name. 

The man startles, surprised, and gestures with his hands “Oh, no, no. I’m Newt. Newt Scamander. Theseus is my brother. He left with the Rebellion a few weeks back”

“We are taking the data disk to Alderaan, the Viceroy will know how to forward the information to the Rebellion” declares the older Goldstein.

“And how did you two…?” asks Credence faintly, gesturing between the two sisters. Imperials, Princes and Viceroys. He is so way in over his head.

“We found Captain Kowalski’s escape pod” explains the young Goldstein, looking shyly out the side of her eyes at the Captain in question “He was unconscious, so Tina and I took him home for him to recover. We ended up listening to Prince Percival’ hologram message”

“By mistake!” quickly adds Tina ”Queenie thought the drive could have some information as to who our guest was, only we got a message of the Prince asking some guy called Theseus Scamander for help. He said he was his only hope”

“Now,” pipes in Queenie “we do not know any Theseus, but we knew some guy named Scamander lived on the dessert. Heard some people in town talking about how he helped them with their sick bantha. So when the good Captain woke up, we offered to show him the way”

“Only, Newt was there instead of his brother” amends Tina, sounding slightly inconvenienced.

“Sorry” says Newt, looking at his shoes, as if he was somehow at fault for living in his own home.

“So you see, we need to get these plans to the Rebellion” insists Tina, all righteous determination and hope “When we saw you in Moss Eisley you seemed… trustworthy” she finishes, giving him a reassuring smile.

Credence assumes that by ‘trustworthy’ she probably means ‘inoffensive’. His old, ragged clothes and general awkward appearance do not generally inspire trust amongst strangers, but they do allow him to pass mostly unnoticed, which usually suits him just fine. Taking into account the galaxy-renowned criminals, bounty hunters and other unsavory characters that frequent Moss Eisley’s Canteen, he can easily see why he seemed the better option to the group.

“You lied to me, back in Moss Eisley” he tells Tina. She has the grace to blush and duck her head, ashamed. Credence pushes on “I- I want- that is, in compensation for lying, I-  want four times the price” he finishes, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders, feeling a blush creeping on the back of his neck. He is no good at negotiating, Mary Lou usually takes care of that part, leaving him to focus on carrying the cargo, but he does not think it unreasonable to demand a higher price after having to flee from a Super Destructor.

“Done” proclaims Captain Kowalski, to the surprise of both Credence and his companions “I’ll make sure the Viceroy properly rewards you for your contribution to our cause” He looks every inch the Rebel hero as he says this, back straight and shoulders set, the light of hope and righteousness shining in his eyes. Queenie eyes him appreciatively from where she is sat next to her sister.

In comparison, Credence feels gangly and awkward, he turns back to the ship controls to hide his embarrassment “Good. That- That’s good. Fine” he manages to stammer out. 

Not for the first time he wonders what has he gotten himself caught into. The Empire, the Rebellion, they are things Credence has only ever been aware of on some distant, detached level. Things that had nothing to do with him and were best avoided. Only now he is smack down in the middle of it, helping four perfect strangers on some mad crusade in behalf of a Prince. A Prince! Credence would laugh at the mere idea if he did not feel like crying from pure anxiety and stress.

 

***

 

The Universe seems determined to play some cruel joke on Credence and his poor, frazzled nerves. 

Not only there is no Alderaan (not anymore, at least), they are also now stuck into a massive, heavily armed Imperial Battle Station, with no visible way out. 

Credence slumps in the chair of the Control Room they have managed to snuck themselves in. The Stromtrooper uniform they used to escape the Falcon without being noticed pinches and chafes in the worst places.

“I want five times the price” he mutters, hanging his head between his knees and taking deep, haggard breaths through his mouth.

“There is a terminal on the third deck that would allow us to deactivate the tractor beam, some kind of central switch” announces Captain Kowalski from the computer he and Queenie have been browsing through “If one of us manages to get to the terminal and disconnect the beam we should be able to escape on the Falcon. Of course, they would need to avoid getting caught by any Imperial officers or Stormtroopers...” he trails off.

Credence wants to vomit. They are never getting out of here. He dry heaves.

“There, there” Newt pats him on the back.

“He’s here!” exclaims Queenie all of sudden, excitedly grabbing for her sister “Teenie! He’s here!”

“Who is here?” questions Tina, who had been quietly resting next to Credence, her stolen Stromtrooper helmet carefully resting over her knees.

“The Prince, silly!” responds Queenie. At this, everyone’s attention turns to her.

“Prince Percival?” asks Captain Kowalski, relief and hope obvious in his voice.

“He is being held in Detention Block AA-237” reads off Queenie, while both her sister and the Captain crowd around her, trying to get a look at the computer.

“We need to rescue him” declares Tina, with the level of certainty that only complete ignorance about the reality of one’s situation can provide.

Credence boggles at her. She can’t be serious, surely? They barely know how to rescue themselves, it would be madness to try and rescue some fancy royal from an Imperial prison on top of that.

“Of course we will!” agrees with her Queenie, whose endless optimism seems to be only comparable to her absolute lack of self-preservation instincts.

“I couldn’t possibly go back to the Rebellion without His Majesty, now that I know of his where abouts” solemnly declares Captain Kowalski, the only one of the trio somehow justified in this madness.

“Um” says Newt, throwing a panicked glance at Credence. Credence returns a panicked look of his own, feeling an instant sense of kinship with what appears to be the only other sensible person in the room.

“We will- We will stay here” he mumbles looking at his shoes to avoid what he knows will be Tina’s reproachful look.

“Stay here-? We have to save the Prince!” she exclaims.

Credence stares harder at his boots. White is really not a very practical colour, but they are newer and much better quality than his own. Maybe he ought to keep them once all this ordeal is finished.

“Tina, I- I only promised to help you take the plans to the Viceroy or to Theseus” excuses himself Newt. “This whole rescue business… I’m only a simple zoologist…”

“And I’m only a simple farmer’s daughter!” exclaims Tina. “But that won’t stop me from doing what I know is right”

_ That’s because you have a death wish _ frantically thinks Credence  _ We, on the other hand, would very much like to remain alive. _

“Credence” Tina says, turning her focus on him. He keeps his gaze firmly on his boots. He has decided he will keep them, after all “You are a smuggler. We could really use your expertise to rescue the Prince”

“I don’t smuggle people, and I use my ship” protests Credence, raising his eyes to glare at Tina. 

Grave mistake. Tina sees his protest as an opportunity and grabs it avidly with both hands.

“But you are good at hiding! What do Queenie and I know about that?” She holds his gaze as she speaks, and Credence finds it increasingly hard to tear his eyes away from such unwavering focus “If it’s money you want, I’m sure the Prince will be more than happy to reward you. He is royalty, after all. He probably has more money than you could probably imagine, right, Jacob?”

“Uh, yeah, sure” 

“I don’t know…” murmurs Credence “I can imagine quite a lot” He has made millions in all the years he has been working with Mary Lou, even if he has barely got to enjoy a single cent of them.

“He will pay it” insists Tina “That and more. He is a rich and powerful Prince, he will be so grateful for your help, he could grant you any favour you ask”

“Any favour?” asks Credence, imagining a future free from the tyranny of the Hutts.

“Any favour” promises Tina.

He nods “Fine. I- I’ll help you”

 

***

 

Getting into Detention Block AA-23 is easy. With Newt as a fake prisoner, Credence and Tina manage to travel through the Station without anyone intercepting them or questioning their motives. He can only hope Queenie and Captain Kowalski are just as lucky on their mission to find the tractor beam’s terminal.

Of course, their brief spell of luck runs out the moment they step a foot on the prison itself. 

“We were not notified of any new prisoners” snottily informs them a pale Imperial officer. “Verify with Command” he orders one of his subordinates.

Tina blasts the subordinate's head off before he has a chance to open his mouth, and Credence barely has time to marvel at her deadly accuracy in the madness that ensues. 

Once all Imperial officers have been disposed off, Credence takes off his helmet and heads over to the central console to find the exact location of the Prince’s cell, while Newt and Tina blow off the cameras and block the lift doors.

A voice over the comms startles him as he starts typing on the console “Detention Block AA-23, Detention Block AA-23, this is Command. We heard shots being fired, please report situation”

Credence freezes, hands hovering over the console. He glances at Tina, who gestures for him to answer. He clears his throat. “We are- uh, we are all okay. Ev-everything is f-fine down here.” He stutters. Tina throws him an exasperated glare across the room. Credence frowns back. It’s not like he has any experience with Imperial communication protocols. “Ah, a blaster malfunctioned. That’s, well, all. All good now. W-we are good. How are you?” he asks, cringing as he speaks. Tina mouths ‘What’ at him from across the room.

“Officer, I will need your identification number-” 

The communication cuts off abruptly as a laser blast destroys the console. Credence turns to look at Newt who still has his blaster raised.

“It’s not like it was going anywhere…” he shrugs  by way of explanation. He turns to Tina “We are gonna be having company soon, Credence do we have a cell number?”

“Cell 2187” dutifully reads off Credence.

Tina immediately takes off at a run towards the cell row, obviously eager to rescuer her Prince. It may be a slightly unusual take on the traditional stories, Credence muses, but it is still a good one. The humble farmer girl rescuing a handsome Prince captured by the evil Empire. Credence does not mind his role as a sidekick, he just hopes he is not the one that dies a tragic death to allow for the heroes’ escape.

Despite the blocked elevators, it does not take long for the Imperials to find their way in to the Detention Level. Tin still has not returned when Stormtroopers start pouring into the room, and Credence and Newt are forced to back away and seek protection in the Cell row, while doing their best to return the fire. The Imperial blaster is heavy and unwieldy in Credence hands, too used to the lightweight speed of his blast gun. 

“This is some rescue. You came in here, and you didn't have a plan for getting out?” questions a gruff voice behind his back. Credence turns to see Tina has arrived with the Prince. And then he does a double take because Prince Percival looks nothing like he imagines a Prince would look like.

Instead of the young, kind, and handsome Prince Credence had been picturing in his head, Prince Percival is old, older than Credence had imagined a Prince could be, with twin streaks of silver hair on his temples, and lines marked around his mouth, where it is turned down in displeasure. He does not look very kind either, heavy, angry brows furrowed over his eyes, giving him a vaguely threatening air. There is no denying, though, that he is quite handsome.

“What kind of idiot organises a rescue without an escape plan?” the Prince repeats angrily. It seems he is also kind of a dick.

“Sorry if the rescue was not to your taste, Sir” protests Credence from where he is crouched down, clutching his blaster to his chest and doing his best not to let his panic overtake him “Perhaps you would prefer to go back to your Cell”

“Credence!” admonishes Tina, scandalised.

He turns to glare at her, but is distracted by the Prince stepping in between them and wrenching the blaster of his hands “Give me that”

Credence opens his mouth to protest, but shuts it with a click when the Prince quickly shoots down two Stormtroopers with scary accuracy, just before he turns the blaster to a grid on the side of the corridor and blows it off, revealing an opening tunnel at their feet.

“Into the garbage chute, flyboy” the Prince commands. His voice carries the authority of those used to having their orders obeyed all their life. 

Credence jumps.

 

***

 

“This may not have been the best idea” Tina says.

That, is a gross understatement, in Credence’s humble opinion. They managed to escape the Detention Block only to end up in a massive dumpster. All doors are magnetically sealed and the walls, covered with a non-identified gooey substance, are too tall to climb. They are as effectively trapped as if they had jumped into a Detention Cell and locked the door behind them.

Except for the fact that Detention Cells probably smell better and are not covered in two feet of muddy water. There goes his plan to keep his boots after this whole mess is over. There will be no getting rid of this stench.

He must have voiced some of his thoughts out loud, because the Prince is now glaring at him, eyebrows a hard, straight line over his dark eyes. 

“Perhaps you would have preferred to try your luck with the Stormtroopers” the Prince snaps at him. He is trying to prop Tina up so she can climb over one of the mountains of garbage, apparently unconcerned of how doing so is ruining his fine clothes. “Or better yet, how about thinking about an exit plan before storming in, guns blazing, like a demented wookie?”

Credence opens his mouth to point out how he would have rather avoided the rescue altogether, when something slithers past his leg. Something alive. He jumps, scrambling up the garbage in an attempt to get out of the water “Something just moved past my leg!” he shouts.

“Probably some debris” the Prince dismisses him. He has managed to hoist Tina up over the garbage heap, and is now trying to climb up himself.

“It was not some debris” Credence replies “It felt alive”

“This is a trash compactor” the Prince says, something like exasperation creeping into his tone. His efforts to climb the garbage pile do not seem to be going well, he keeps slipping and splashing back into the watery floor “There is no way something lives here”

“Actually,” interrupts Newt “there is probably enough organic matter around to sustain a small living organism. There have been registered cases before of parasitic creatures making their homes in space stations trash disposers. It’s a fascinating subject, really”

Both Credence and Prince Percival stare at Newt, completely baffled, as Tina whispers to him “Newt, I don’t think now is the best time-”

“Wait!” he interrupts her “I think I felt it! There was something against my leg, just now. Oh, this is great” he exclaims, as he uses his blaster to comb the water at his feet “Where have you gone to? Don’t be shy, Mama is here no-” 

Newt’s attempts at befriending the Trash Monster gets suddenly cut off when something -probably the Trash Monster itself- pulls his leg and forcefully drags him underwater.

“Newt!” Screams Tina, starting to climb down from her perch, when her friend disappears from sight.

“You stay there!” the Prince orders her as he joins Credence in stirring the water at their feet, attempting to find their colleague.

But Newt seems to have vanished, no matter how much they stir the water or poke it with sticks there is no sign of the zoologist or the creature that captured him. The trash compactor is eerily silent, Credence and the Prince frantically moving around the water the only sounds in the room.

And then the walls begin to groan.

Credence startles, momentarily stopping his frantic search for Newt, to look around him. The piles of garbage have started moving, slowly, pushed by the walls. Someone has activated the trash compactor. He turns to warn the Prince, who is still combing the water with increasing frustration, when Tina calls his attention.

“There!” she screams pointing behind him, where Newt has resurfaced, and is struggling to stay afloat, what looks like a massive tentacle wrapped around his neck and torso.

Credence hurries over immediately, grabbing at Newt’s hand and pulling as hard as he can. The Prince soon joins him and, between the two of them, they manage to keep Newt afloat long enough for the beast to give up and scurry back to where it came from.

“Thanks” Newt gasps, unsteadily climbing to his feet with Credence help “I thought I was done for…”

“You may still be” Credence tells him grimly “Someone activated the trash compactor. It won’t be long before the walls crush us to death”

“Oh. That’s what must have made the creature go away. It probably knows a way out of the compactor-”

“You are more than welcome to try and follow it” growls the Prince “But perhaps it would be better to look for an alternative solution”

“Queenie!” Tina shouts “We can call Queenie! She should be able to switch off the disposal sequence”

“Who the Hell is Queenie?” grumbles the Prince as he struggles to climb up to safety. 

Credence, who has already managed to climb atop a pile of trash, offers him a hand. “Tina’s sister. She was in charge of disabling the tractor beam”

“There are more of you?” asks the Prince horrified. Credence is tempted to push him back into the waters.

“Captain Kowalski is also with us” Credence says, just to watch the Prince’s face turn to horror.

“Jacob!?” the Prince half-shouts at him “Do you mean to tell me the plans are here?”

“...Yes?”

The Prince drags a hand over his face, pinching his brow “They were supposed to be with the Rebellion by now. What possessed him to bring them here?” he hisses.

“We got captured on our way to Alderaan” Credence tells him “must have punched in the wrong coordinates in the Hyperdrive, because we ended up on an asteroid field-”

“You had the right coordinates” the Prince interrupts him, voice strangled and eyes staring vacantly at the wall closing in on them “Those asteroids are all that remains of Alderaan”

Credence wants to ask him what he means by that, unable to believe a Planet could be reduced to space rubble, but is interrupted by Tina yelling into her comlink.

“Queenie! Queenie! Do you copy? Queenie!”

_ “Teenie?” _ buzzes Queenie’s confused voice over the speaker  _ “Is everything okay?” _

“Yes, I mean- No, it’s not okay. We are stuck on the Trash Compactor of the Detention Block, we need you to deactivate it and open the doors”

“They need to grab the plans and take them to the Rebellion” interrupts the Prince “Their base is on Yavin IV-”

“ _ We’ll get you out of there first, Your Highness”  _ Captain Kowalski’s voice announces.

“Kowalski!” shouts the Prince, scrambling to stay up over the shifting trash “Brave people sacrificed themselves to send us these plans, getting them to the Rebellion is your top priority, this is an order”

_ “I promised the Viceroy I would keep you safe, Your Highness”  _ calmly responds the captain.

“He’s dead!” snarls the Prince, voice raw and breaking “They are all dead. Alderaan is gone. And these plans are our only chance to prevent that from happening again”

_ “Your Highness-” _

_ “It’s done! I got it!”  _ exclaims Queenie over the comlink and, sure enough, the walls screech to a sudden stop. 

Credence breaths a sigh of relief, momentarily letting himself slump back against the wall, unidentified sticky substance be damned, and catch his breath.  Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the Prince gingerly sit down on a broken container. He looks lost, tired. His elegant robes are rumpled, hanging awkwardly off his slumped shoulders. There are bags under his eyes, which stare vacantly at nothing. He had been ready to die, Credence realises. Either for the good of the Rebel cause, or out of grief for his people, he cannot tell. The feeling is alien to him. People like Credence, poor, forgotten, scoundrels, do not get tragic, heroic deaths. They struggle, and scramble, and desperately cling to life with bare teeth and bloodied fingers.

“Queenie!” calls Tina, as she wades through the garbage “Open the pressure maintenance hatch on unit number... Where are we?”

“3263827!” shouts Newt, reading off from the small, dirty sign above the hatch.

After a few seconds the hatch opens with a silent hiss, and they all hurry through, eager to get away from the foul stench of the Trash Compactor. They enter a white, bland room, probably reserved for maintenance checks, and blissfully empty. They use the opportunity to rid themselves of the uncomfortable, and stifling, Stormtrooper armor suits. 

Credence is just debating whether or not he can really keep the boots when Prince Percival speaks up again.

“Listen, you space jockeys,” the Prince says. He stands straight once again, shoulders squared and eyes burning with purpose “I don't know who you are or where you came from, but from now on, you do as I tell you, O.K?”

Credence bristles at the haughty tone “Because the garbage chute was a really wonderful idea” he mutters under his breath.

The Prince glares at him from beneath dark, angry and incredibly intimidating eyebrows, and stalks off without another word. Tina immediately hurries after him, while Credence exchanges a resigned look with Newt. They should have left the Prince in his damn cell, he thinks, no reward is worth this.

 

***

 

“Your friend is very brave” the Prince says as he watches Tina charge at a small group of Stormtroopers, shouting like a mad tusken raider and waving around her blaster. Newt trots in after her, muttering ‘See you back at the Falcon’ to Credence and the Prince.

Credence has way better survival instincts.

“This way” he says, pulling at the Prince’s sleeve and heading off in the opposite direction. It may take them longer to reach the loading bay, but hopefully they can get there without having to face off against an entire Stormtrooper garrison.

They manage to get considerably far, before they are faced with an obstacle. An automated bridge. The Prince curses under his breath and makes to turn back, but is stopped by a laser shot, skimming just across his feet. A small patrol of Stormtroopers seem to have spotted them, and are already taking positions on the corridor, blasters aimed at them. In a panic, Credence shoots the command console on the wall next to him, causing the automated door to come crashing down, effectively cutting them off from the Stormtroopers.

“That was the console needed to operate the bridge” the Prince growls, ‘you idiot’ not said, but still fully implied.

“T-they were shooting at us!” defends himself Credence “I had to do something”

The Prince looks like he is about to follow up with another snide reply, when a laser shot cuts through the air, mere inches from his head. They both look up to see some Stormtroopers positioned in a window on one of the upper floors. They plaster themselves against the side wall, using it as coverage.

“I’ll take care of them” says the Prince, cocking his blaster and positioning himself at the edge of the wall “You find a way to get us across the kriffing bridge”

Credence wrecks his brains while the Prince shoots of the Stormtroopers with frightening accuracy, pointedly not thinking about how a supposed member of the Senate and  descendant of a pacific royal family is so handy with a gun. He frantically searches his pockets for the comms link he knows he had, knowing calling Queenie is probably their best shot at activating the bridge, when his fingers tangle on a wire. 

He pauses. Pulls the wire out of the pocket and examines it. It is long, with a small grapling hook at the end, and looks sturdy enough to support both of them. Covering behind the Prince, he throws the cable to one of the levers protruding from the walls, smiling relieved once it catches and locks. He pulls it twice to tests that it holds, before extending one hand to the Prince.

“You gotta be kidding me” says the Prince, staring at Credence’s offered hand in disbelief.

“Perhaps you would prefer to try your luck with the Stormtroopers” Credence says, throwing his own words back at him. 

The Prince throws one last look at the door behind them, before hesitantly making his way over. 

“I’m too old for this shit” he mutters, as he throws one arm around Credence’s shoulder, and the other around his waist, grabbing on tight. This close Credence notices the Prince is slightly shorter than him, if only for a mere inch. It is a disconcerting discovery. The Prince’s nose brushes against his cheek when he turns his head to look at him. Dark, brown eyes stare back, determined, despite the shadow of fear clouding at their edge. One dark, royal eyebrow arches in questioning. 

Credence clears his throat, turning his attention back to the other end of the bridge and re-adjusting his grip on the cable. Now is not the time to dwell on how unfairly attractive Prince Percival is, despite his shitty attitude, or how good he smells for someone who had been scrambling through a dumpster a few moments ago.

He gulps, grabs the cable with both hands, and jumps off the edge of the bridge.

They, thankfully, make it all the way across, stumbling slightly when their feet touch the edge of the bridge. Credence pulls at the cable to shake it loose, determined not to leave any way for their chasers to go after them, while the Prince leans against a wall, gulping in big mouthfuls of air, one hand splayed over his chest.

Once he manages to shake the cable loose, Credence pockets it and grabs the Prince’s arm once again, pulling him off the wall, and steadying him when he weavers in place.

“Let’s go” Credence urges “before they find a way to blow the door open and activate the bridge”

 

***

 

When Credence gets his first glimpse of the Falcon, still whole and completely unharmed in the landing bay, he wants to weep with relief.

“You came in that?” the Prince questions, voice heavy with skepticism and derision “You are braver than I thought”

Credence resolutely ignores him. Prince Percival can hitch a ride on a TIE for all he cares, he is going to get on his Falcon and fly off this blasted Battle Station without a single look back.

“Tina, Queenie, where are you?” Credence speaks into his comlink “We are just outside the landing bay. It’s crawling with Stormtroopers”

“ _ Credence?”  _ Tina answers. There seems to be some background noise over the comms. Laser blasts, most likely, thinks Credence in a panic “ _ We are on our way. How far are you from the Falcon? Could you get there in a quick run?” _

“Why- Yes, We’re pretty close. Tina, what-”

_ “Jacob is gonna create a diversion” _ Tina interrupts him. Credence can hear Newt cursing faintly in the background “ _ Be ready. Tina out” _

“Wait, Tina- What diversion? Tina!” Credence shouts frantically into the comlink, until the Prince rudely snaps it from him.

“Keep your voice down” the Prince hisses, leaning into Credence’s face, brows a deep, angry ‘v’ over his eyes “Do you want to alert the whole kriffing station of our presence?”

Credence flinches at the Prince’s angry words. He had let his worry overtake his common sense for a moment. He should have known better. He is a smuggler, for God’s sake. Keeping quiet and passing unseen are the top two requirements in the job description, he should not need to be reminded by some Prince with anger management issues.

“Fuck, I’m sorry” says the Prince, pinching his brow “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. This whole day is just…” he makes a vagues gesture with his hand, as if to encompass the absolute mess they find themselves in right now.

Credence can relate.

Any response he may have made is forestalled by a massive explosion on the other end of the landing bay.

“What the-” the Prince says as he watches in astonishment as dark, thick clouds of smoke emanate from one of the top windows overseeing the landing bay.

“I think that may have been the distraction” answers Credence. All the Stormtroopers  in the bay are now running towards the explosion, leaving the Falcon unwatched. They will not get a better chance.

Without another word they leave the safety of their hiding place and sprint towards the Falcon. They are almost there when Credence spots Tina and the others, running across the bay with what looks like a full platoon of Stormtroopers snipping at their heels. They do seem to be mostly unharmed, much to Credence’s relief, even if Newt’s hair is slightly singed at the top.

“You go up and start the ship” the Prince says once they reach the Falcon, cocking up his blaster and taking aim at the Stormtroopers  “I’ll try and give them some cover”

Credence wants to point out that, as the rescued, and arguably most important party, the Prince should probably be the one going inside, away from the reach of Stormtroopers’ blasters. Still, they have no time to lose in pointless arguments and, going by the way the Prince’s mouth is curled in a wild, vicious snarl, it clearly looks like the man would relish the opportunity to shoot at some (more) Stormtroopers. 

Credence is not going to be the one to keep him from enjoying himself.

He runs into the cabin and scrambles into the pilot’s seat, frantically switching on the engines and programming the ship for take off. The clatter of boots on metal soon informs him of the others’ arrival. Hand already hovering over the launching command control, he turns his head for a last, quick check. Tina, Queenie and Newt are already strapping themselves to the passenger chairs, still breathing heavily from their run, but smiling like deranged lunatics all the same. An instant later Captain Kowalski appears, half dragging the Prince, who still looks positively murderous with rage, by the arm.

“All good to go, Credence” says the Captain, calmly pushing the Prince down into one of the chairs “Buckle up, Your Highness”

Credence nods back at him and presses forward the command control. The sound of the engines flaming to life is the best sound he has heard all day.

 

***

 

It looks like Queenie and Captain Kowalski’s mission to deactivate the tractor beam was a complete success, and they are able to make the jump into Hyperspace after swiftly taking care of some sentry ships.

“What a rescue!” exclaims Tina, as she struts back into the pilot cabin, cheeks flushed with excitement  after her takedown of the Imperial TIE.

“I’m amazed we managed to pull it off” agrees Credence, lazily lounging on his chair.

“So am I” the Prince says in a dry voice. He smirks condescendingly at Credence “They let us go. It’s the only explanation for the ease of our escape”

“You call that easy?” Credence says, frowning in irritation at the Prince’s continued pessimism and mockery.

“They’re tracking us” calmly replies the Prince, staring Credence down from underneath his bushy, judgemental eyebrows.

“Not this ship, Sir” bites out Credence. The Falcon may not be a fancy Star Cruiser armed with heavy artillery, but it is the fastest, stealthiest ship in the whole Galaxy. He would know if they were being followed.

The Prince snorts, giving him one last pitying look, before turning to address Captain Kowalski. “Is the data disk safe?”

“Of course, Your Highness” Captain Kowalski assures him “May I ask why is it so important? What does it contain?”

“The technical readouts of that battle station.” the Prince says, pinching his brow and leaning further back into his seat, shoulders slouched and legs kicked out in front of him “I only hope that when the data's analyzed, a weakness can be found. It's not over yet.”

“It is for me” Credence is quick to point out “I ain't in this for your revolution, and I already went above and beyond our original agreement by helping rescue His Worshipfulness” he points with his head at the Prince, who scowls back at him, mouth turned down in a moue of displeasure “I- I expect to be paid accordingly. You promised me” he adds, voice wavering slightly as he fixes his gaze on Tina. He does not like to demand money like this, after everything they have been through, but he likes being indebted to Mary Lou even less “Five times the price for my help”

“You needn't worry about your reward” snaps the Prince, getting up from his seat in one swift, sharp move, and turning the full force of his rather impressive scowl on Credence “If money is all that you love, then that's what you'll receive” he finishes, stalking away in quick, angry strides, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging over the cabin at his departure.

“So! A Prince, huh” says Queenie, visibly trying to dispel the awkwardness “What do you think of him, honey?”

“I’m trying not to” mutters Credence, slouching further in his seat and hunching up his shoulders to his ears, face still burning at being called out by the Prince.

 

***

 

“So... you got your reward and you're just leaving, then?” murmurs Tina, as she, Queenie, and Newt help him load up the boxes loaded up with precious metals he agreed to accept as payment. 

Credits would have been better, of course, but Senator Picquery had argued the Rebellion did not have those kind of funds laying around. _ Pay him in kriffing metals, if needed _ had growled Prince Percival  _ The sooner he gets it, the sooner he is gone _ . The look he shot Credence as he said it would have sent even Mary Lou scurrying away in abject fear.

Credence glances up at Tina from underneath his bangs. She is dressed in a Rebel pilot uniform, having volunteered to join the Alliance not two seconds after they touched down on Yavin IV.  

“Y-yeah” he stutters out, feeling uncomfortable when confronted by her earnest gaze “I have some debts I need to pay. And even then… I’m not brave like you” he admits, flushing in embarrassment. 

He had been in the briefing room when Senator Picquery had gone over the battle plans. Maneuvering through a narrow trench, aiming for a ridiculously small target, all the while avoiding heavy Imperial fire. It is madness. The Rebellion would need a massive, highly trained, and heavily armed fleet for their attack to have any chance of success. Sadly, and opposite to what Prince Percival’s rich robes would have you believe, the Rebel Alliance is nothing more than a ragtag group of idealists. Old ships, and old weapons, manned by tired, dirty soldiers and officers driven by nothing but a  brittle sense of hope.

Credence has never been a good gambler, but he knows this is a bet he would not take.

“We are afraid as well” whispers Queenie.

“I could- I could take you with me” Credence offers her. She is still dressed in civilian clothing, it look like she will not be following her sister on an X-Wing “To Tatooine, I wouldn’t charge you”

Queenie gives him a watery smiles “Thanks, honey, but I have to stay. Even if all I can do is worry about whether Tina and Jacob are gonna come back”

“Worrying means you suffer twice” mumbles Newt. He is also dressed in pilot overalls, nervously hopping from one foot to another as he very pointedly avoid looking any of them in the eye. His brother, Theseus Scamander, will be the one leading the assault.

“I’m sorry” he tells them. 

The last box is already loaded into the Falcon. He needs to leave now, before the Empire arrives and he ends up mixed in the battle. He looks at them for the last time. Tina, standing straight and doing her best to put on a brave and determined face, Queenie, next to her, clutching her hand and doing nothing to hide the tears already brewing in her eyes, and Newt, shuffling in place, apparently unpreoccupied, and smiling warmly at Credence.

“Take care of yourself, Credence” Newt tells him.

Credence nods, stiffly, throat too tight to form any words. Behind Newt he can see Captain Kowalski deep in discussion with Prince Percival. They will be on the Command Centre, directing the attack. Captain Kowalski, waves him goodbye, smiling good-naturedly. He is not the kind of man to hold any grudges or question other people’s choices. Credence raises his own hand in return, just as the Prince turns to look what has caught his Captain’s attention. The moment he spots Credence he narrows his eyes, gaze turning cold, and furrowed eyebrows no less impressive because of the distance separating them.

Credence hastily lowers his hand, turning his gaze to look at his feet, a hot blush staining his cheeks. The scornful way the Prince looked at him leaves no doubt how little he thinks of Credence for running away.

 

***

 

He keeps looking back. 

Yavin IV is is nothing more than a small, blue circle in one corner of the cabin’s viewport. He has programmed the Hyperdrive to take him straight to Tatooine, and his hand is hovering over the edge of the command console. Just one small push and he will make the jump to Hyperspeed. He has the reward. More than he ever hoped for. More than enough to pay his debts to Mary Lou. Enough to be free of her forever. 

And yet, he keeps looking back.

He is not Tina, he tells himself, full of hope and optimism, and just itching for a good cause to join up with. He is not Queenie or Newt either, kind, understanding and bound by family loyalties to the Rebellion. He is not Captain Kowalski, either, loyal and dedicated to the cause.

He is a low-life smuggler, working for the Hutts, and with nothing but an old rickety ship to his name. A worthless nobody. 

Prince Percival was right to look down on him, Credence thinks bitterly. The Prince had endured torture at the hands of the Empire to protect the last hope of the Rebellion. He had seen his home planet blown up before for his eyes. And instead of breaking down and running away, he had stayed. 

Credence can still feel the Prince’s cold, angry eyes burning on the back of his neck. He remembers those same eyes, burning with rage and hatred as the Prince shot Stormtroopers down, one after the other, with deadly accuracy. He remembers them staring back at his own on the bridge. There had been fear in those eyes, he thinks, the Prince had been afraid, even as he grabbed onto Credence, and jumped with him over the edge. 

And on his moment of fear he had looked to Credence for support. He had trusted Credence, implicitly, to save their lives. 

It had been nice.

Credence lets out a broken sigh, slowly lowering his head to press against the control panel. He cannot get the Prince’s eyes out of his mind. He is back on that bridge, the Prince’s eyes locked with his, his arms around his back, chests pressed together, and his infuriatingly nice smell clogging Credence brain. He forcefully presses his eyes closed. The image remains.

When he opens them he can see Yavin IV, a small, blue circle against the angry red of Yavin. A smaller circle shows up now as well, a the other end of the gas giant, grey and cold, and moving steadily towards the Rebel base.

The Death Star.

Before he has a proper chance to reflect and question himself, Credence switches re-routes the Navi Computer, and steers the Falcon back towards Yavin IV. Mary Lou will kill him, if she ever finds out he helped the Rebellion, but at the moment he cannot bring himself to care. 

He can feel his heart beat painfully against his ribcage. Blood rushes to his ears, drowning out all the sound. Fear clogs the back of his throat, thick and bitter, and spreads through his limbs, filling them with cold. His breathing, though, is stable, calm. His pulse, steady. He does not tremble when the Falcon enters the Death Star’s orbit, gently guiding his ship through the maze of trenches and turrets on the surface of the Battle Station. When he spots Tina’s X-Wing fighter, making her way through a narrow trench, chased down by a TIE, he does not hesitate.

His shot rings true, and Credence watches satisfied as the TIE explodes into flames, leaving Tina free to shoot her missile straight through the opening shaft of the reactor system.

 

***

 

The moment he descends from the Falcon, he is almost run over by an exultant Tina.

“We won! We won!” she screams into his ear, while clinging to his neck and swinging them around at the same time. Credence hesitantly puts his own arms around her, smiling into her neck, and relishing the feel of her, warm, and vibrant, and alive.

“Good shot” Newt says, clapping Credence on the back, a loopy, tired smile on his face.

“I knew you’d come back!” exclaims Queenie, joining her sister in the embrace, and pulling in Newt along with her. The four of them wobble in place, laughing like children, as the rest of the Rebel base erupts into celebration around them.

Captain Kowalski comes running from the Command Room seconds after, enthusiastically thanking Credence and Tina, and picking up a delighted, giggling, Queenie to spin her around in celebration. Tina leans her head against Newt’s shoulder, her arm around his waist, as she laughs, carefree, at her sister’s antics. Credence watches them as well, a small smile playing on his lips. This must be what a happy ending feels like, he thinks, glancing around at the on-going celebration around them. He likes it.

“I believe I owe you an apology” says a voice next to him.

Startled, Credence, turns to find himself face to face with Prince Percival “Y-your Highness,” he stammers out, cheeks coloring rapidly under the Prince’s gaze “It’s not- That is, I’m not- No apology needed, Your Highness, Sir”

The Prince smiles at him, amused, his brown eyes crinkle at the corners. Credence swallows.

“I was unfair with you” insists the Prince, drawing closer to Credence, voice low and intimate amidst the cacophony of laughs and shouting of the Rebel celebration “I expected you to risk your life in a fight that was not your own. I sometimes forget not everyone is willing to join the Alliance.  That not everyone  _ should _ . You still decided to come back, though, and that decision honors you”

“My friends were there” blurts out Credence “And you- I mean, everyone on the base, you were all here, with the Death Star approaching, and, well, Mary Lou will probably have me killed if she ever finds out, but I thought- I thought,  _ maybe _ , I could stay here, and-” Credence is mentally cringing at his own verbal diarrhea when Prince Percival’s hands come up to cup his cheeks. He blinks “I-...uh, I-”

Whatever else he may have said gets lost as the Prince pulls his face closer and kisses him. 

He has soft lips, Credence thinks dazedly, soft lips for such a harsh man. They press against his, warm and assured, moving slowly in a teasing, gentle caress. The hands on his cheeks are hot, palms rough where they frame his jaw.  Credence freezes, overcome by sensation. He does not know what he is supposed to do with his hands, and leaves them hanging awkwardly by his sides.

The Prince withdraws slightly, his nose grazing Credence, and his warm hams moving in a gentle caress towards the nape of his neck, fingernails scratching against the short hairs there.

“Is this okay?” The Prince whispers in the small space between their mouths. Credence can feel his breath, wet and hot, waft over his lips.

He nods, awkwardly, not trusting himself to speak. He is blushing ten ways from Sunday, and he needs to force himself not to avert his eyes from the Prince’s intense gaze. He is so close Credence could count all his individual eyelashes, if he were so inclined.

“Good” the Prince says, leaning in again, this time with more intention, lips hot and insistent against Credence’s own. The hand on the back of his neck gently maneuvers his face into a better angle, one where their noses don’t smush together. A second hand slowly travels from his nape to his waist, in a subtle, burning caress, and pulls him closer, so that his chest is flush against the Prince’s. 

Adrenaline still courses through his veins, hot and wild, and the shouts of celebration resonate within his ears. He feels like he is burning from the inside out, skin too tight, and limbs too shaky. He blindly  grabs onto the Prince’s coat to steady himself, leaning further into the kiss, losing himself in it. The Rebellion, the Empire, Mary Lou, and his debts, they all fall back for a brief, wonderful moment, as Credence allows himself to get lost in the Prince’s lips and the joy of celebration.

(Later, there will be a formal celebration, with all the Leaders of the Rebel Alliance in attendance, all soldiers and officers in neat, aligned rows on a richly decorated room. Credence will be there, standing next to the Goldsteins, Newt and Captain Jacob, as Prince Percival, looking impossibly dapper in cream robes, awards them medals for their role in the Battle of Yavin IV. 

It will be an incredibly grand affair. One to be remembered for years to come, as the first Great Victory of the Rebellion.

Credence, though, will not remember much of it, apart from the white of the Percival’s smile and the warmth on his brown eyes, as he hangs the medal around Credence’s neck, winking playfully as he arranges it properly over his chest)

**Author's Note:**

> On the kiss: I plan to make this a series to cover the original triology, BUT since I already have other projects on the line, I have absolutely no idea when Episode V will be up. So, to avoid having half of you out for my blood for being a tease, I decided to have them get it on earlier than in the movies (this way if I never get around to writing a sequel they still get to snog)
> 
> (The sequels will probably be written, Graves in a Slave!Leia get up is a very strong incentive)
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading and, please, let me know your thoughts on the comments :)


End file.
